Mr. Eklof

This afternoon I met again with Johanson. “Did Mr Eklof agree to give up his desperate gamble?” I told him of Suresh’s unyielding attitude, then added, “And from your side, Mr Johanson, is there any news?” “Well…I…you see…”

“I understand. You did not even talk about it with your staff, right?” “Not exactly…”

“Mr Johanson, very little time remains. If Stan kills himself due to our negligence, we won’t be able to sleep peacefully for the rest of our lives.”

“But he has no right to try to force the government’s hand like this!” Was Johanson losing a bit of that typical Swede imperturbability?

“At least you can try to discuss it with your staff. I’ve been trying. What about you? Besides, who can say what’s really proper and improper in this immoral world? You cannot imagine the extreme suffering of Mr Sarkar and our hundreds of workers who are inside of abominable Indian prisons. And all completely unjust.”

“That’s not the point! Mr Eklof is trying to blackmail us.”

“Perhaps the term is correct. If so, it’s a minuscule crime compared with what the Indian government has been doing to us. Anyway, let’s leave this aside. Our task is to overcome this impasse. Please, I’m begging you to at least discuss it with your staff. Can you do that, Mr Johanson?”

He paused. “Alright…I’ll do it…How many days do we have left?” “Four.” In fact five days remained, but I thought it better to keep an extra day in my hand.

We agreed to meet again the next day.

This evening Karan spoke with Suresh’s parents. They are sick with worry. We invited Mr Eklof to accompany us to tomorrow’s meeting.

Next day. “I have an offer to make,” said Johanson. “Please tell Stan that if he calls off his threat to self-immolate, then we are prepared to discuss with him the possibility of presenting Mr Sarkar’s case to the United Nations. Of course there are many complex details that need to be clarified before we can make a final decision as to whether or not it fits the protocol of the UN.”

“I understand you.” I said, “and appreciate your proposition…”

“Good—it’s the most we can do…”

“…but unfortunately I doubt Stan will accept it.”

There was an uneasy pause. Then Suresh’s gray-haired father started speaking in Swedish to Johanson. Karan, who had until now been translating for Mr Eklof, now translated for me. “He says that it’s a fine proposal, and surely Stan will have to reconcile himself to the fact that the Swedish government is stretching its rules to the limit on his behalf. He’s very thankful to Mr Johanson.”

“I agree with you, Mr Eklof,” I said. “What both of you say is rational and correct. But, please excuse me for saying this, Stan is prepared to immolate himself for this issue. He is certain to want something definite before relenting.”

“He must understand this is the absolute maximum the government can offer,” Johanson said. “Now his fate rests with you, Dada. You have to convince him.”

I shrugged my shoulders and sighed, saying, “I’ll do my best.”

After leaving the UN office, we took a taxi together with Suresh’s father. On the way, he suddenly exploded. “Who’s side are you on?” he yelled. “I think you prefer my son’s death to the reasonable option given by Johanson! You are the cause of all this horror! You don’t really care about Stan!” He went on screaming similar things, giving me no chance to reply, until at last he broke down weeping into his hands.

Karan and I grimaced in pain. He gently rubbed Mr Eklof s back. We drove in silence, except for the sound of the old man’s sobs.

The taxi arrived at his house. Just before he got out, I said, “Please believe me, Mr Eklof. I love Stan deeply.”

Mr Eklof s face showed exhaustion. He gave a weak smile, turned and walked toward his house.

I felt awful. I felt so bad for Mr Eklof that I had physical pain in my heart.

Later Suresh called again. “You people are working so hard. And I’m here in hiding, carefree and enjoying my meditation. Dadaji, I hope these days are not too tiring for you all. Rest assured that I’m happy, happier than ever.”

“But you know, Suresh, if you don’t accept the government’s offer, you may be doomed. They insist this is the limit.”

“I understand, Dadaji. I expected it might be like this from the moment / first announced my resolution. If I die, it will provide just the right sort of shock to humanity.”

“Suresh, you can do infinitely more for humanity if you go on living and serving.”

“I don’t know, Dadaji, and I don’t care. I feel deeply that I’m doing exactly what Baba wants. I’m receiving His immeasurable grace every moment. The entire cosmos seems to be His smile, especially when I do meditation. So I have no doubt.”

“If you think like that, then what are we to do?”

“What you are already doing is perfect. Please continue your efforts, unattached to their results. In the end it will happen according to His whim.”

“Suresh…”

“I know it’s harder for you all than for me, but I shall accept no compromise.”

Next day. “Damn it,” said Johanson, “he’s asking for the impossible.”

“I know,” I said. “He’s fully prepared to die.”

“Can’t you provide any further lead as to where Eklof might be? Our investigators say they’ve already checked every imaginable link, and nothing remains except to search every house in the country.”

“No. No further clue. And I already told you that finding him is immaterial. Wherever you might keep him, however you try to restrain him, you’ll never dissuade him from his resolution. I tell you, there’s no other way. The only real solution is for Sweden to present Mr Sarkar’s case to the United Nations.”

He didn’t reply. We sat in silence for one or two minutes.

“Sir, that’s enough for this morning. If possible, please be in your office this afternoon, as I may need to call you.”

Johanson did call this afternoon, and completely astonished me.

After hanging up, I waited impatiently for Suresh to phone. Thirty minutes later the phone rang. It was him.

“The Swedish government’s decided to put Baba’s case to the UN!” I blurted out. “Can you believe it, Suresh? Congratulations!”

“Tato Baba, tato dharma. Tato dharma, tato jaya," he said quietly and calmly. “Where there is Baba, there is righteousness. And where there is righteousness, there is victory.”

“I want to see you as soon as possible, Suresh. We should meet Mr Johanson also. Which is closer for you—our office or the UN office?”

“I can meet you in the lobby of the UN office,” he said. “It’s only a few minutes walk from where I am now.”

“You crafty fellow! Exactly where have you been staying?”

“In the apartment of an old friend. By ‘old’ I mean he’s more than 80 years old. And he never reads the newspaper or listens to the radio news. I told him my house is being painted. Ha, ha!”

Before I left, Karan called Suresh’s father. When he heard the news, he burst out, “Oh, thank God! Thank God!” He cried a bit, and then said, “Please accept my apology for what I said in the taxi yesterday. Without your efforts I think my son would have died.”

After waiting for ten minutes or so in the UN office lobby, I began to feel a bit nervous. Suresh should have arrived before me.

Another man had also been standing there for a long time. Might he have seen Suresh? I approached him. He smiled.

“For God’s sake, it’s you, Suresh!”

He ripped off his false mustache, took off his bogus spectacles, and burst out laughing. We embraced each other, weeping like babies.